The Lost Holy Texts
by WhisperedMuse
Summary: Listen all you people, come gather round'. Collection of one-shots and stories about all characters, though most will probably be Meat/Oz Centric. Rated T for Language.
1. 37 Celebration

I thought it'd be good to start writing Rock You fic again. Plus I had encouragement from xXGaGaGirlXx (Thank you). So this archive was born, a place for all my one-shots and WWRY shorts.

Disclaimer – I don't own We Will Rock You. Anything you recognise isn't mine. Any bohemians that may pop up that you don't recognise will be. I don't own the songs and lyrics that may or may not give these one-shots their titles either.

Warning – Just a heads up for strong language. You know what the bohemians are like. Especially Meat!

Yeah if the grammar's a bit wobbly, it's because I've literally just finished my huge drama essay – and I have no beta.

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01. Let Them Know It's Christmas

It was unusual, to say the least, for the Heartbreak hotel to be quiet. It was even more unusual for the bohemians to be gathered together and quiet. But today wasn't an ordinary day. As Prince and Cliff had been out 'on the scavenge' as they put it; they had come across something new – something wonderful. Pop had described it as a radio, and after much fiddling around, he had even made it work.

The radio burst into life as a dial was turned, and a little squeal escaped from the front of it, causing half the bohemians to jump and cover their ears, turning to each other in enraged bewilderment. Madonna came and sat down on the crate next to the device, enthralled and hypnotised as Pop continued in vain to make some sound emerge from the box. Thinking she had the idea, Madonna motioned for Pop to move out of the way and she knelt down with her ear to the speaker – much like you would if you were trying to crack a safe- to try for herself. There was a horrible fuzzy sound; Pop called it interference; that reminded some bohemians of snow…

A high pitched noise came from the old contraption again and this time, the platform of the Heartbreak was filled with the sound of synthetic bells and plastic laughter. Big Macca shuddered involuntarily and swiftly nodded at Madonna, who promptly switched off the radio.

"GaGa Christmas music…" Paul whispered the venomous phrase with narrowed eyes. "What a load of …" He paused, unable to think of the right words. His brow creased in concentration as he sought for some inspiration. On seeing the other bohemians looking expectantly at him; he tried again. "What a load of – of -"

"Commercial bollocks?" A strong Scottish accent rang out across the platform, interrupting Big Macca's struggle to find fitting words to express his disgust. Paul's eyes brightened in comprehension at the phrase and looked up to face her, grinning and nodding his head.

"Yeah… That." Meat smirked in reply as she stood, hands on hips beside a crate of Jack Daniels'. She brought a gloved hand up to her face to inspect her nails, her tongue pushing against the inside of her cheek as she picked at her middle finger with her thumbnail. Impatiently she blew one of her blonde dreadlocks from in front of her eyes.

"S'always the way though ain't it? They have their emotionless, meaningless celebrations that turn their brains to shit and we have… Our own ways…"

"Of turning our brains to shit?" Macca replied, puzzled. A few whispers of 'vodka' could be heard along with knowing nods.

"No! Our own ways of celebrating! But yeah," Meat nodded to the few bohemians who had spoken during the confusion, nodding at them before winking; "vodka pretty much sums it up." She sat down on the crate she had been standing beside; deciding that public speaking probably wasn't such a good idea. The Heartbreak lulled into a thoughtful, yet uncomfortable silence as some of the bohemians tried to find something to say to break the unusual stillness.

Madonna decided it was time to speak up. "Anyone else wanna show the pigs how it's done?" She grinned and a rushed murmur of excitement spread throughout the group of bohemians. "Then let's Partay!"

Immediately, make-shift instruments were whipped out of their places. Lulu started everyone off with an elaborate bass pattern that set the whole of the Heartbreak alive. Soon enough, all the bohemians had come out of their places around the hotel and had all gathered on the platform to really start celebrating. Big Macca and Bob moved slowly across the platform, heaving a large box full of alcohol steadily; gripping so hard their knuckles were going white. Meat had hopped off the crate of Jack Daniels and had thrown the top of it off; and – with help from Aretha, Madonna and Charlotte- she was distributing it around the group of merry bohemians.

As the music playing, the drink flowed and the bohemians danced the night away; each one of them prayed that their music would reach the surface and show the GaGas Christmas really had begun.

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This one was rather short in comparison to my usual length of fic, but short and sweet to start with I think…


	2. 20 Lie In

20. Lie in

He lay there in silence, white sheets pooled around his waist as he propped himself up on his elbow. Lying on his side, chin leaning on his fist, he looked down with a sleepy satisfied smile at the body curled up next to him.

Long Blonde hair was splayed across the pillow in frenzied, silky locks. It was rare for her to have her hair down; but it suited her. If anything it brought out her natural beauty. This was one of those occasions that Brit finally saw her without her radical eye make-up or rainbow colours in her hair. Today she was not the crazy, loud and opinionated Scot that most of the Heartbreak knew and loved, or got irritated by. Today she was Meat, the sensitive, young and slightly vulnerable girl that he had fallen in love with all those years ago, the girl who relied on him and supported him. Today she was his. If anything, seeing her hair down and laid out on the pillow made her seem younger, and made him remember the youthfulness that her eyes held on the day they met. Somewhere her eyes still held that, it may have been masked by their hard life at the Heartbreak and the maturity she had to grow into. But it was still there somewhere, like a musty volume sitting at the back of a bookshelf.

Travelling down her body with his gaze he saw her hands fisted and clutching his free hand to her chest in a bundle of bed-linen. He smiled as he thought about what she would say to him if he raised the issue of her holding onto his hand like a child. He was sure her answer would be something along the lines of 'complete bollocks' and that she didn't need him to be able to do anything. Brit knew that publicly, with one flutter of her eyelashes she could do anything she wanted. He also knew that she hated it. She hated her reputation as a flirt, someone that held everyone under her thumb, someone manipulative. She hated how her subtle playfulness was sometimes mistaken for lust or power within calculated movements. But Brit knew she would do nothing to shake that reputation, as it was the one thing that made her untouchable, for if you removed the layers of legend and falseness that were built up around Meat like the wall of a fortress, you would see someone who just wanted to be loved and admired and to have the family life that she should have had in the first place. Only Brit saw the other side of her. The side that sometimes cried into the pillow in their room until he came in to see her in such a state, then she would cry into his chest instead. Or the side that sometimes yelled out in her sleep because she'd had a nightmare about her past. The side that she wanted to forget, the side that made her feel human, her emotional side.

It was after one of those really long, sleepless nights of just talking about the things that really mattered to them that Brit realised he had to do something special, to try and erase some of the pain that had been rearing up out of the deep depths of her memory. Last night he'd decided to take her to a cheap hotel, away from the Heartbreak and the bohemians and the week of sleepless nights. They checked in under a false name, in long black coats to hide their clothes, it wasn't much good, but a flash of a thick leather wallet silenced the hotel staff who gathered around them like vultures with fixed smiles with little meaning; hoping they would be heavily tipped. Of course, they had no intention of paying for anything.

It had been years since they'd slept in a bed, Brit mused. At the Heartbreak they relied purely in what they could steal; and mattresses were never put above food and music on the priority list, they were normally too heavy to carry if they found one anyway. So for eight years they slept on a bundle of flat cushions and moth-eaten blankets on the floor of their room; the only warmth and comfort available they took from each other.

A peaceful smile crept onto Meat's face as the uncurtained windows allowed the early morning sun to creep into the room, bathing her skin in dim sunlight. Her eyes fluttered slightly and she rolled onto her back to gaze sleepily up at him. He smiled, moving his head so he could run his thumb in small circles on her bare skin.

"Morning Gorgeous." He whispered, grinning widely at her. Meat looked around, taking in the small, walled room before laughing softly, eyes shining and pulling him down for a kiss.

They were both content for now. Even in the knowledge that it wouldn't be long before they would have to slip out of the back entrance of the hotel without a trace; and back into the Heartbreak before the bohemians noticed they were missing. Brit smiled to himself as he ran his fingers through his girlfriend's loose hair, that it had all been worth it. It was the best lie-in they had both had in a very long time.


	3. 1 Miles

I'm back with a below-par one-shot. I was listening to American Idiot and reading WWRY fic for the first time in a long time and decided I need to start writing again because my brain was turning to jelly. Unbeta-d and not thoroughly proof-read by me as yet. Edits in the morning.

For Crimson Suspense because I owe her (more than) one. Thank you for being patient and waiting for this – you rock.

Also, dedicated to the WWRY FFN originals who one by one have left us...

Disclaimer: Don't own it, blah blah blah.

**I walked for miles til' I found you…**

Meatloaf was not a patient person. She never had been and it wasn't going to change any time soon. It was unfortunate for all the other bohemians that her impatience had only aged with her. It became bigger, meaner and more colourful as she grew up until most people knew to avoid her like the plague if she was ever waiting for something. Yes, Meatloaf's impatient rants had been known to empty even the bar of tipsy bohemians – and that was no easy feat.

However today Meat wasn't ranting. Or pacing… Or swearing? She was just sitting and staring. It was scary. Prince chanced shuffling over to her to check she wasn't comatose. He stood facing her side, slowly bending at his middle until his nose was an inch away from her ear. His breath must have been tickling her but still she made no attempt to move or even look around so Prince did something drastic. He extended his tongue, brow furrowing with concentration, neck moving towards her further and used the wet muscle to lick her ear. Meat flinched and - no she just flinched. What the hell? Prince had braced for impact; right down to his screwed up eyes and a precautionary hand just in front of his cheek, palm facing the stock-still bohemian in preparation for pain. Meat was definitely a girl in some ways, but not when it came to physical violence. She hurt. Always.

The next thing Prince realised when he opened his eyes was that Meat had gone. Literally just gotten up and walked – well, stalked, out of the Heartbreak and into the tunnels, not even looking back to throw a two-finger salute over her shoulder at the older Scotsman.

"Well, shit…"

The tunnels extended beyond the boundaries of the sector the Heartbreak was under. If you wanted, you could easily get lost in their never-ending darkness forever. But Meat had no intention of getting lost; in fact she was out to find something, well, someone. Brit had gone in search of the dreamer again, which never failed to make Meat both nervous and annoyed because he never let her go with him. Not that she didn't trust him – far from it. But it was dangerous, Brit was sometimes gone for days on end and she got lonely. Other bohemians were beginning to call her selfish. The newer ones, the ones who hadn't seen the constant struggle of resistance versus Globalsoft. They thought that because she wanted him at the Heartbreak, wanted him safe, that she wasn't doing her bit for the cause anymore. Maybe they were right. What was the point in constantly searching for something that may or may not exist? What was the point if he died searching? Always lingering at the back of her head were thoughts of family. Meat may not want children, but she wanted to feel like part of a family. She'd never had a loving home, now she'd found one; who could blame her for wanting to keep everything safe? She turned a corner and tripped over a piece of jagged polycarbon sticking out of the ground.

"Shit." Her Scottish twang rang out and echoed through the tunnels. This was turning into a bit of a joke now. She had been everywhere. Meat even attempted to _track_ him. She knew exactly what Prince would be making of that if he had heard. Her mild agitation soon turned to desperation as her mind came up with a million different 'what ifs'. He could be lost, dead, abducted. Many stories had been told about bohemians that were abducted and never came back – or did, without their spirit. Of course the party threat was being shipped off to the Seven Seas of Rhye, but at least there you could be looked after.

She turned around sharply at a sudden sound to her right; her dreads spinning so fast some hit her straight in the eye. Artificial sunlight was shining through a hole in the ceiling of the tunnel, dust particle flying everywhere. A foot was sticking out of it, dangling recklessly from the roof. After her eyes adjusted to the light, Meat could tell exactly whose rusty boot it was and she wasted no time in running towards it, uncaring whether she tripped again. Relief washed over her as she slowed and looked upwards, her boyfriend enthusiastically scrabbling up to the surface.

"What do you think you're playing at, you big brute?" She resisted the urge to tag on an 'I was worried sick' to the end of the question. He was clearly engrossed in something, this area of tunnels was pretty much undiscovered territory as far as 'dreamer-patrol' went, and evidently Brit had found something to get excited about.

"Never mind that now babes, hand me the bag from down there will ya? I was trying to come back down for it and got stuck!" Meat rolled her eyes fondly (not that he could see that of course' and stooped down, swinging her arm through the bag loop and using the force to throw it up to the waiting hand that was poking through the hole where the foot had been minutes before. "It's pretty clear up there, Meat!" A miniscule ounce of doubt crept into her brain – this place was new, and strange, Rock Gods knows what was waiting for them at the surface; but she'd rather be there to protect Brit than cowering in the tunnels like something soft. "Well be careful… I'm coming up too!"

And the rest is history.


End file.
